Why Do the Doors Need Locks?
by Overlord-Of-Stuff
Summary: Vague finds a drunk coworker in her office one night, and stuff is said. Weird stuff. Rated T for Bloom being drunk and poorly portrayed. Pretty much crack that includes my OC Vague.


**A/N: What is this? I don't even…ghaaaa! I need to stop babysitting young children; their randomness is slowly killing off my ability to write sanely! **

**Anyhoo, I don't own Professor Layton, all I own is Vague, this plot, and the idea that Bloom has a drinking problem. **

**WARNING: OOC-ness will follow heavily! But still, enjoy the randomness! **

Vague stepped into her office, finding Leonard Bloom, of all people, sitting on the sofa in the corner. He glanced up at her when she entered, and right away Vague knew what was up. The agent was drunk. Again.

When she'd found out about Bloom's drinking problem, (AKA: finding him stoned on a street corner on her way home one night), Vague had taken to hiding the agent in her office when he wasn't sober. How he got in this time, she didn't know. The man could pick locks, just like any other agent, but doing it while drunk? She wasn't so sure.

However he got in, Bloom was sitting on her sofa, only half aware of the world around him. Vague sighed and went to her desk, setting down her groceries. It had been her intention to just pick up some papers before heading home for the night, but now it looked as if she'd be stuck here with a man she really didn't like. In fact, the only reason she allowed him to stay in her office was because Bloom was the only agent her rank who she could put up with. The others were too incompetent or stuck-up.

After rummaging around in her desk for a few seconds, Vague produced a bottle and a glass. She poured a small amount of the bottle's foul-smelling contents into the glass and walked it over the Bloom. It took a few tries to get him to take it, since he wasn't keen on the smell either. Vague made sure he'd downed the whole glass before taking it from him and heading back to her desk.

As she set the glass aside to be washed, she glanced at the bottle. It was nearly empty. She'd have to go get some more of the liquid later. She loved having the stuff around. It was a special tonic made by a friend of hers that was supposed to help with drunkenness and hangovers. So far, it had worked just fine to get Bloom back on his feet by morning. The last thing she needed was a hung-over agent in her office during weekly inspection.

Vague put away the bottle and grabbed some of her unfinished reports and a pen. Walking over to the corner, she sat down across from Bloom, who had settled into a kind of dazed sleep, and got to work.

*O*

A little while later, maybe an hour at most, Vague heard Bloom muttering in his sleep. She cursed inwardly. Why did he always have nightmares when he was drunk?

Vague stretched out and gave his leg a sharp kick, but it went unnoticed, and Bloom's muttering got a little bit louder. Vague groaned and stood up, setting aside her work. She went over to Bloom and shook him roughly by the shoulder. Still no luck. She tried a few more times, but the other agent wasn't waking. Instead, he started trashing and moaning in his nightmare. Vague cursed again, he would normally have woken up by now.

Finally Vague got fed up with him and went over to her desk, pulling out her police-grade bat. She brought it over to Bloom and aimed for the back of his head (which was rather hard since he was moving around so much). But just as she was about to bring it down, Bloom jolted awake with a gasp. Vague could have killed him right then and there.

Bloom turned and looked at Vague, who was still standing over him with the bat held high. His eyes still held that drunken glaze, and Vague gave a brief laugh.

"If you're going to make me hit you, at least let me carry it out." She said as she went to sit back down. She kept the bat with her, just in case.

He just fixed her with a confused stare, and Vague sighed. "For the love of-"

"My nightmare was about Vague." Bloom said bluntly.

Vague froze. What did he just say?

"Vague was in it. But she wasn't Vague. She was that lady she disguises herself as." Bloom spoke as if she wasn't really there, as if he was alone.

_He must mean Olivia. _Vague thought. She settled back into her chair, waiting for Bloom to continue.

"She was that lady, only she wasn't working for Targent, she was working for that man. What was his name…?" He trailed off, thinking.

Vague frowned. Was the idiot talking about when she had worked for Descole? She'd gone undercover to get some intelligence, and instead found herself working for the masked man. Not a fun job.

"Descole?" She offered, but Bloom didn't seem to hear. He continued to think, until he finally shrugged and went on.

"She was attacking the base with a bunch of soldiers in masks, and that masked man with the cape was next to her. They were both laughing as Vague's fellow agents died. "

_What is he, three? What kind of nightmare is that? What would I attack the only place that pays me for what I do? _ Vague scoffed at Bloom's suddenly child-like nature. The young man was really just a little baby.

"They were together, and I- I was so- so _jealous_ of him. I wanted to kill him. No one gets with my Vague" Bloom curled his hands into fists.

For the second time that evening, (two times too many,) Vague froze. He did not just say that.

Bloom opened his mouth to continue, but Vague jumped up, grabbing her bat.

_THWACK!_

The bat connected with the side of his head, effectively knocking out the man. Vague sighed, and set down the bat. She hefted Bloom up by his armpits and dragged the unconscious man to the door. It took some effort to get it open, but when she did, Vague carefully dragged him down the hall to his own office, trying not to make any noise. But when you're holding a knocked-out drunk, that can be kinda hard.

By some miracle, Vague made it to Bloom's office without being detected, although there were very little people out at this ungodly hour of night. Which is why Vague did her shopping at the 24-hour grocery stores, since she had little time during the day.

She quickly picked the lock to the room, wondering what the point of the locks was anyway. If all the agents could pick locks, and if an intruder got this far, they would have had to already pick several locks, so they really didn't have a purpose.

That aside, Vague got Bloom into his office and over to the desk. She didn't try to sit him in the chair, so she unceremoniously dumped him on the ground. The sound his head made as it hit the wooden floorboards didn't bother Vague at all.

She walked out of the room, making sure it was locked, then headed back to her own office. There, she gathered up her groceries and papers and left for the night, reminding herself to have a friendly little "chat" with Bloom in the morning.

_He better pray he doesn't remember._

**A/N: Soooo…does this mean I ship BloomXVague? Nope. Vague will forever be a bachelorette. Yup. And the idea for the whole "finding a coworker drunk in your office" was a prompt from a class I took. It was a fun class. This wasn't the story I wrote for it originally, though. **

**But if I had a crack pairing, this would be it. Violent Vague and weak, drinking Bloom. I would totally go for it. Anyway, constructive reviews are appreciated, although flamers will just be used to make S'mores! (I'm thinking about making a follow-up part, but that depends on what you people say)**


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